


Heart

by snarkasaurus



Series: Flash Fiction February 2020 [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22592452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkasaurus/pseuds/snarkasaurus
Summary: Each stitch has to mean something
Series: Flash Fiction February 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625575





	Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Day Three of [Flash Fiction February](https://www.scribemind.com/blog/flashficfeb)
> 
> A way to have a "literary sketchbook" for the month of February. I'm using it to shake some dust loose.

Each stitch she put into the yarn’s twisting length carried with it a truly felt heart wish. Every time she made something, whether it was for a new baby or an older family member, a hat for her child or a set of washcloths for someone’s housewarming, she put a little piece of her heart into it. The flash of her crochet hook was more than just light glinting off coated metal. Every flick of her knitting needles was catching a thread from her hopes and dreams for the recipient as much as it was catching another loop of yarn to make the next stitch. 

Her friends teased her about her “yarnomancy,” and she let them. There was no harm in it, especially because it was true. She did weave spells into everything she put out into the world. New babies got blankets layered with wards for health protection, warmth, and all the nascent, unnameable new hopes she wanted carried for the baby’s life. Warm wraps and shawls got health and warming spells woven into them so that the aged shoulders they cradled had some protection against the weight of age. 

No one quite seemed to know what to make of the couple who’d been trying for five years to have a baby, who’d moved and received a beautiful couch throw as a housewarming gift from her. A year later, little Nadia was a happy, healthy newborn and the jewel of her parents’ lives. Her sister had whispered that she should try and make her spells a little less obvious, but she’d just smiled and said that all she’d done was make the gift from her heart. Nature had done the rest. 

Of course, making gifts from the heart took time and love and patience, and she couldn’t always put into the gift what she wanted. There was a box hidden in her closet of half finished projects and failed dreams that would never go out into the world. Sometimes she’d let herself get distracted while crocheting or knitting and the dream had warped into something that wouldn’t be safe to let out of her possession. Sometimes, her feelings changed toward the recipient, and she didn’t have the heart to put anything into the work anymore. And sometimes...well, sometimes, things just didn’t work.

But they always, always came from the heart, and she always, always knew that that would be the best thing she could ever give.


End file.
